


Ends All Your Sorrows and Starts with a Kiss

by Pippinpaddleopsicopolis (Barnable)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hiding Medical Issues, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, POV Zuko (Avatar), Partially Blind Zuko (Avatar), Partially Deaf Zuko (Avatar), Secrets, Sokka (Avatar) Has Chronic Pain, Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Title from a Zella Day Song, Zuko's Scar (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barnable/pseuds/Pippinpaddleopsicopolis
Summary: Zuko knows there's something going on with Sokka. He's been having nightmares almost every night since he came to visit and can barely put any pressure on his left leg. Having gone through his fair share of chronic pain since the Agni Kai, Zuko wants nothing more than to help his boyfriend. The only problem? Sokka won't admit there's anything wrong.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 255





	Ends All Your Sorrows and Starts with a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fernando9andSergio15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fernando9andSergio15/gifts).



> I wrote this fic as a gift for [lions-claws](https://lions-claws.tumblr.com/) for the atla new year gift exchange on tumblr! They asked for Sokka hiding his chronic pain from Zuko (who is well-versed in chronic pain himself and only wants to help), and this is what I came up with.

It was the movement that woke him up, but the mumbling came shortly after that.

“Hold my hand.” Sokka’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Zuko understood every word of his panicked tone. He’d said those things far too many times before. “Don’t fall. Hold my— Hold my hand.”

Zuko opened his eyes, reaching out for Sokka’s hand. He carefully laced their fingers together, giving him a small squeeze. Sokka barely stirred, his fingers gripping down as he let out a soft groan. Zuko slid his free hand up, pushing loose hair out of Sokka’s face and gently stroking his cheek. It wasn’t foolproof, but it usually got him to start calming down. It helped ground him and get his brain to realize that whatever he was seeing wasn’t real.

“Please don’t fall. I need you. Please.”

“I’m here,” whispered Zuko. He shifted forward, his thumb brushing a tear from just under Sokka’s eye as he gave his hand another squeeze. “It’s okay. Nothing is going to happen to us.”

Despite how long the nightmares had been happening for, Zuko still had almost no idea what they were about. Based on the mumbling, he’d concluded that some of them must’ve been about him, Toph, and Suki’s time on the airships, and others about the raid on his tribe, but he didn’t know for sure what they consisted of. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, Zuko couldn’t get Sokka to even admit that he _had_ the nightmares, let alone talk about what occurred in them.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka moaned, his brow slightly furrowing but his position barely moving an inch. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Honestly, Zuko didn’t know how responding to Sokka’s unconscious rambles did anything, but it worked. It always worked. “We’re okay.”

“It hurts.”

In response to that comment, Zuko shifted his own place in bed to wrap a leg around Sokka’s. He knew the closeness helped him. Sokka initiated that form of contact with him far too many times for it to be a coincidence, even if he wasn’t ready to talk about why. A few times, Zuko tried to ask him what it was he liked so much about that position, but Sokka would only say that he enjoyed the intimacy. Zuko thought it was too soft to ever argue.

“It’s okay.” Gently, Zuko urged Sokka’s head into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of his hairline. Sokka’s fingers shifted, squeezing around Zuko’s arms, and clinging to the fabric of his sleeves. “It’s just a dream.”

But the way Sokka gripped around his biceps and twisted into his chest said that he didn’t believe it. He let out a terrifying moan as he shifted in closer, his fingers pressing so hard against Zuko’s skin he could feel each finger leaving a mark beneath his sleeves. He hugged Sokka closer, one hand resting on the back of his head and lovingly toying with his hair.

“Wake up, babe,” he murmured. Zuko’s own breath was starting to shake from the pressure on his arms, but he never ceased the reassuring movements of his fingers. “Come on, please. It’s okay, Sokka. It’s just a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m gonna drop you.” Sokka’s words were filled with a painful level of fear. That was how Zuko knew he was dreaming about something real, a memory, and not just his imagination playing cruel jokes on him. “Please.”

“You’re not going to drop me. I’m here. We’re safe.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.” The moment he said the word, Sokka’s fingers started to release their smothering grasp. He nuzzled into Zuko’s chest, his arms slowly wrapping around his waist. Zuko took a deep breath of his own, kissing Sokka’s head again and giving his cheek a soothing stroke before he pulled him in closer. “Promise.”

* * *

In a turn of events that should’ve been uncommon but happened more often than he’d care to admit, Zuko ended up waking several minutes after Sokka.

It was, of course, because he was lacking in sleep from having to comfort his boyfriend and make sure that he was okay in the middle of the night, but Zuko didn’t mind that. If Sokka needed the help, he was more than happy to be there for him. The only thing that bothered him was the way Sokka was sitting. His back to Zuko, one hand rubbing circles into his thigh and the other clinging to his pantleg. Carefully, Zuko sat up, sliding forward to place a hand on Sokka’s shoulder.

“Shit!” Sokka whipped around suddenly, but oddly, only his right leg turned with him; his left still hanging off the bed. He let out a breath, one hand over his heart as he dragged the other through his still messy hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to— fuck. I didn’t know you were awake.”

“Yeah, sorry.” More hesitantly and obviously this time, Zuko snaked an arm around Sokka’s, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Sokka stared down to his fingers, stroking the back of Zuko’s hand with his thumb. “You okay?”

“Mm.” The hesitation gave away his lie. “Fine.”

Sokka rose to his feet the moment the word left his mouth, releasing Zuko’s hand and stumbling as he stood. Zuko nearly reached out to help steady him, concerned he could be sick, but Sokka pulled away. He gave Zuko a look that was entirely unreadable, one hand moving to the bedpost to balance himself. He was walking on the ball of his left foot, and that was definitively the issue with his weight distribution, but Sokka either didn’t notice that or didn’t care.

He grabbed a shirt and pants before flopping back down on the edge of the bed; his left leg stiff as he dragged the fabric over it. Concerned, Zuko slid forward, wrapping his legs around Sokka’s and his arms around his waist. Sokka melted into his grasp in a second, his eyes closing as he draped his hands over Zuko’s forearms. Their skin was warm against each other, Sokka’s quickened heartbeat pounding behind Zuko’s right wrist.

“You don’t have to work if you’re not feeling well,” said Zuko, resting his chin on Sokka’s shoulder. He shrugged but didn’t say anything. Zuko chose to take that as confirmation that he was, in fact, sick. “I know you like to help but you’re here as a visitor. You’re not obligated to do anything.”

“I know.” Sokka slid a hand down, wrapping it around one of Zuko’s as he leaned back into his arms. Whatever the reason, he definitely wasn’t feeling his best. “I’m fine, I just didn’t sleep well last night. I don’t want to walk out when I already told you I’d help with the—”

Zuko believed that his boyfriend didn’t sleep well—he watched him thrash around in the sheets, it only made sense that he would wake up exhausted—but he wasn’t about to argue with him, so he instead chose to push the button that always made him shut up. The button being Sokka’s neck and the pressing force being Zuko’s lips, of course. He kept his arms laced around Sokka’s stomach, gently kissing his skin, and giving his stomach a squeeze when he started to jokingly protest.

“We have to get up.”

“No, we don’t.” Zuko pressed another kiss to the base of Sokka’s collarbone before turning into his neck. In response, Sokka’s body shifted, but he didn’t try to move away again; instead, sinking into Zuko’s movements. “If you’re not feeling well, you’re not feeling well. You don’t have to work just because some old bastards are expecting you. They’re not worth your time.”

“But you are.” Suddenly, Sokka’s right hand shifted to Zuko’s cheek, pulling him from his neck. Zuko blinked when Sokka slid his hair back behind his ear, then leaned down to press their lips together. “It’s fine, babe. I’m going to come with you. A little bit of exhaustion has never kept me from working before.”

“Yeah, because you’re stubborn as fuck.”

“I _am_ stubborn as fuck.”

Apparently, Sokka thought that was enough and chose to stand up again after he pressed one more kiss to Zuko’s cheek. He smiled, but his posture shifted when he turned away. That was when Zuko noticed it for sure. The way he moved his left leg as little as possible. The way he hopped on that foot and did whatever he could to keep his weight off it. Zuko slid forward again, sliding his near-bare legs over the edge of the bed.

“Is your leg okay?” he asked gently. Sokka nodded briskly but didn’t turn back around nor provide a verbal response. “Are you sure? It looks like you’re in a lot of pain.”

“No,” snapped Sokka. He glanced over his shoulder, glaring at his boyfriend as if he _weren’t_ using the dresser for support. “It’s fine, I just slept on it weird.”

“Sokka—”

“I’m _fine_ , Zuko. Just leave it alone, okay? Get dressed, I’ll meet you for breakfast in a bit.”

Though Zuko wanted more than anything to go after his boyfriend, Sokka was too fast to leave the room despite how weirdly he walked. Zuko almost stood up and followed him anyway, but realized he was wearing nothing except his underwear and a sleep shirt and figured that probably wasn’t the best way to let anyone see their Fire Lord. He groaned and flopped back on his pillows, throwing his hands over his face as his hair spilled across the covers.

Sokka was really good at keeping things bottled up. Really, really, _freakishly_ good. Zuko thought _he_ was good at hiding things, but ten minutes with his boyfriend told him he was so far outranked by Sokka’s internalizing and repression, he was basically just an open book. He was okay with that. He wanted Sokka to know everything about him, to be the person he could trust with anything, but apparently that wasn’t reciprocated. Apparently, Sokka wasn’t comfortable sharing everything with him.

Groaning, Zuko pushed himself to a seated position, pulling his hair out of his face. Once upon a time, he would’ve just yanked it back into a ponytail or chopped it off when it annoyed him, but he couldn’t do that anymore. He had an image to uphold, and so he threw on his tunic and robes, then forced himself to get out of his room. Zuko didn’t particularly enjoy his morning routine, but he understood it was important to maintain his image and went along with it for his people.

His servants were kind at least, and Zuko was able to relax as sat back in his seat, allowing them to get to work on his topknot and face. The one thing about Zuko’s routine was that he still had boundaries. Yes, he allowed people to touch him which he couldn’t do for ages. Yes, he allowed them to speak with him even though it triggered his social anxiety. But they weren’t allowed to touch his scars. They weren’t allowed to get _near_ his scars, but of course, someone had to cross that line regardless.

Zuko ripped away the second one of his servants brushed against the edge of his scar. He didn’t know what he shouted, couldn’t see what he did on his impaired side, but he said and did _something_ that made everyone leave the room in a hurry. Whatever it was must’ve been scary, awful, an outburst he’d have to profusely apologize for later, but he couldn’t stop to care. His face was _burning_ where they’d brushed against it, and it took everything in his power to keep himself from reaching up to cradle it. More pressure on his damaged nerves would only make it worse.

It was that thought of pressure which suddenly brought him back to Sokka. The thought of how he’d sustained the injury which caused the burning in the first place, and which left him with the chronic pain. Sokka broke his leg on the day of Sozin’s Comet. Honestly, Zuko couldn’t remember very well which one it was, but if it _was_ his left, that would explain why he moved so weirdly some days. Why he was walking almost solely on the ball of his foot that morning.

Suddenly, Zuko ached to hold his boyfriend and rather than focusing on the burning of his face or the pain-induced tears dripping from his eye, he chose to go find him. When he arrived at the dining hall, having adequately covered his own trail, Zuko nearly gave Sokka an enormous hug, but stopped. Pressuring him to talk after what already happened that morning wouldn’t do anything but risk pushing him further away.

So, instead, Zuko just walked over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. To let him know that he was loved. He was safe. Whenever he was ready to talk about his struggles, Zuko was there to support him.

* * *

The problem was, of course, that Zuko was impatient as fuck and Sokka was even more stubborn than that.

Somehow, despite Zuko’s constant hinting, Sokka managed to make it almost another week without so much as a word on the subject. He had more than just another nightmare over those days, but Zuko didn’t mention those either. Sokka managed to catch him in a place where he both desperately wanted to discuss what was bothering his boyfriend and also terrified that bringing it up would only make things worse. So, he waited. He waited, and he waited, and he waited, until he couldn’t do it anymore.

Choosing to approach Sokka gently was hard and putting it into practice almost impossible, but Zuko did the best he could.

He knew that Sokka didn’t do well with confrontation, that he tended to either get overly defensive or absolutely shut himself down, and Zuko didn’t want to start that. Not when Sokka was clearly already struggling and in both a fragile mental and physical state. Because his leg didn’t get any better, of course. It was a little sporadic, Zuko could tell, but he never walked “normally”. Even when he seemed fine, a closer look revealed that he was still limping. That he couldn’t move with his full weight on his left leg.

“Sokka?” Zuko said the name as softly as he could, sliding in the room as he glanced over his shoulder. Inside, Sokka was already in bed, reading a book Zuko couldn’t be bothered to recognize. “Hey.”

“Hi.” His smile was too charming, his bare skin too gorgeous and shining where the moonlight struck it through the window. “You look tired. Lot of meetings today?”

Technically yes. Zuko had attended a lot of meetings that day, but none of them were the reason he looked tired. He was zoned out at almost all of them, too focused on his struggling boyfriend to even begin to think about political matters. Not that he was about to tell that to Sokka. He needed to approach the situation with a lot more care, something he’d thankfully thought through while he was unfocused. Not that his stupid gay brain was able to let him launch right into it, but still. The attempt was made.

“Yeah, I guess.” Zuko’s eyes trailed up and down Sokka’s bare torso, flickering up to his lips when he flopped down on the bed beside him. Sokka must’ve noticed the way his gaze was shifting, because he leaned over and let Zuko have a quick taste of the very skin he was admiring. “Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?”

“You have,” answered Sokka, folding his reading glasses and resting his book down on his lap. He lifted his hands to remove the crown from Zuko’s hair, the smile never fading from his face. “Four times today.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re cute, so I’ll give you a pass.”

His fingers didn’t cease their movement for a second, resting Zuko’s hairpiece on the table beside the bed before pulling out his topknot altogether. Zuko reached up to hold Sokka’s forearms when he started playing with the Fire Lord’s loose hair, shifting to press their foreheads together. If Sokka understood that there was a very serious tonal shift about to happen, he didn’t say anything; only locking his fingers around the back of Zuko’s head and letting out a deep breath before softly kissing the bridge of his nose.

“Can you be honest with me?” asked Zuko quietly. Neither of them pulled away, but Sokka nodded and whispered an agreement. “I’ve been watching you since you got here, and I know something is wrong. Please don’t deny it. Just tell me what it is so I can help you.”

“Nothing is wrong.” But the way his fingers slightly scratched the surface of Zuko’s skin as he pulled away said he was too uncomfortable to stay close. Sokka leaned back against the pillows, his gaze shifting down to the left before he said another word. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m fine.”

“I’ve had to wake you from four nightmares since you got here, and you’ve been visibly limping half the days. That’s not _fine_. Just tell me what’s going on. Please. I won’t judge you, I just want to help.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want help. Have you considered that? Maybe I have it all under control and talking to you about it would be absolutely pointless because there’s nothing to even discuss.”

“Sokka—”

“No. I’m not talking about this.” Sokka slid farther away, unwilling or unable to meet Zuko’s gaze. Zuko reached out for his hand, but Sokka pulled back, wrapping both arms around his own waist. “There’s nothing to even talk about. Maybe I had a couple of nightmares. Who cares? I’m staying in the capital of the nation that killed my mom. I’m allowed to be a little uncomfortable with that.”

“Yes, you are.” This time, Zuko resisted the urge to move forward, understanding that Sokka was not okay with him getting too close at that moment, even if it hurt. “You’re allowed to be uncomfortable here. You’re allowed to have nightmares. You’re allowed to hurt. But you’re allowed to talk about that too. I know you’re always acting strong and I love that about you, but you don’t have to. It’s okay for you to be vulnerable with me sometimes.”

The look on his face was utterly unreadable. Still, Sokka avoided meeting Zuko’s eyes, turning down to look away from him. Zuko shifted to be able to follow his gaze better with his bad eye, slowly reaching out to wrap a hand around Sokka’s. To his surprise, Sokka allowed him to lace their fingers together that time, even if he didn’t turn around. Squeezing his hand felt like a relief, like Zuko hadn’t messed things up as badly as it seemed like.

“Sorry.” Of everything he could’ve said, that was the last thing Zuko expected. Rarely was Sokka the first one to crack in an argument, and the fact that he was apologizing for anything before Zuko came as an utter shock. “I’m not trying to shut you out, I guess I just feel… stupid? Guilty? I don’t even know. I’m just— I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for waking you up with my nightmares too. I’m going to explain it all, I just don’t know how to do it without— it’s complicated. I’m sorry. I’m not ready yet.”

“It’s okay.” Zuko gently spun Sokka around, looking straight into his eyes and biting down on his lip as he stared into the emotional abyss. “I’m not going to pressure you to talk about anything, I just want you to know that I’m here if you want to, okay? About anything. Doesn’t have to be the nightmares or anything even, just… I love you. You know I do.”

Slowly, carefully, Zuko leaned forward, wrapping one hand around the back of Sokka’s head to pull his wolftail loose as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. Sokka’s eyes fluttered shut and he moved to rest against Zuko’s shoulder, sliding his hands around the Fire Lord’s back. Maybe that wasn’t the perfect outcome. Maybe Zuko was hoping they would be able to talk a little before their inevitable hug. Maybe he didn’t expect Sokka to drift off right there and end up crying in his sleep. But if that was what he needed to feel better, Zuko was more than okay with things turning out that way.

* * *

Despite their little heart-to-heart, Sokka did not magically become more open with Zuko, nor did Zuko magically get any better at coaxing him out of his repression. Instead, Sokka simply hid away in his shelter of pain, quietly suffering and refusing to let his boyfriend in regardless of the circumstances.

So, of course, Zuko’s solution switched from being “try to slowly get him to open up” to “catch him in the act and get him to confess” which, admittedly, was probably the worst possible course of action. Not only did he end up stupidly distracted whenever Sokka was around—okay, so he was usually distracted by Sokka anyway, but now it was from watching his movements rather than gawking at his general attractiveness—but he also ended up unintentionally alienating him by saying all the wrong things.

Not to mention the stupidest thing he did, which he would’ve kicked himself for if Sokka hadn’t already taken care of that.

They were in a meeting together all afternoon and Zuko could tell something was wrong. He didn’t know _what_ was wrong, but there was a strange look on Sokka’s face, and he kept shifting in a way that said he was more than a little uncomfortable. Both times they called for a short break, Sokka bolted from the room in a heartbeat and refused to give Zuko an explanation aside from denying an accusation that he was sick. That was an idiotic guess too. Sokka acted only more upset after that.

It wasn’t until the very last politician left when things started to make sense. When it was just Sokka and Zuko left in the room, and Sokka let out a breath; squeezing his eyes shut as he unwrapped his legs and stretched his left out in front of him. Zuko still didn’t know anything beyond speculation, couldn’t tell a thing thanks to the way his boyfriend was hiding it, but the pain on his face was obvious. After all, Zuko had seen that look a thousand times in the mirror whenever something unsuspected brushed against his scar.

“Hey.” Zuko reached out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze, his brow knit in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Except the way he spoke sounded like he was in a severe amount of pain and the way he squeezed his eyes shut made it look like he was doing his best not to hurl. “Fine.”

“Remember what I said to you the other day? That you could tell me if something was bothering you?”

“Nothing is bothering me.”

“Sokka, please.” At that point, he _was_ begging. He _knew_ Sokka was not okay and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know if there even was a way to get through to him. “I want to help.”

“I don’t need help,” he snapped, yanking away from Zuko’s grasp. Still, Sokka didn’t open his eyes, taking another exaggerated breath as he twisted his hands around his pantlegs. “I’m fine. Seriously, I’m fine. Just leave it alone. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But saying you don’t want to talk about it implies there’s something there to avoid discussing.”

“You—!”

Though he started to say something, Sokka cut himself off quickly and rose to his feet, shaking his head instead of trying to argue verbally. However, thanks to whatever was wrong, he only managed to take one step before his entire body shifted and he lost his balance. Zuko’s reaction time was fast and he shot up quickly enough to catch him, but apparently, despite the fact that Sokka would’ve otherwise fallen and struck his head, that was the wrong thing to do.

He stayed still in Zuko’s arms for several long seconds, eyes wide with brimming tears and what must’ve been embarrassment. Sokka blinked quickly, turning away the second Zuko tried to meet his eyes. He basically rolled out of his boyfriend’s grasp, unintentionally kicking his shin as he moved, and wincing when his left foot hit the ground before letting out a gasp of pain that was all too audible. Zuko reached out to steady him, but immediately, Sokka yanked his arm back and stumbled away again.

“Please, Sokka, I—”

“Stop it!” Each step he took looked more painful than the last. The way he moved was worse than just a limp. He was barely balancing on his right leg, his left supported by nothing but his toes and occasionally the ball of his foot. His breathing was frantic, his tone desperate to get away. “Just leave me alone, okay? I told you, I’m _fine_. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want your help. I just want to be fucking left alone. Please. Just stop. I know you’re trying to help but you’re not. You’re just— fuck. Just leave me alone.”

The decision not to go after him was a hard one. Zuko wanted more than anything to follow Sokka, to help him, to comfort him, but he couldn’t. Sokka couldn’t have made it clearer that getting in his space was the reason things were going so badly. So, instead of following him, Zuko sat back down on the floor and buried his face in his hands. Maybe he couldn’t talk to Sokka, but there was nothing stopping him from shouting at himself.

* * *

“Is it okay if I come in?”

Honestly, it felt a little weird asking that in the doorway of his own bedroom. Zuko waited for an answer regardless, though he didn’t manage to get anything verbal. Sokka didn’t sit up from where he was lying on his side, barely nodding staring out at the window far in front of him. Hesitantly, Zuko slid into the room, closing the door behind him, and crawling into bed on the left. It was his fault they shared those sides. He didn’t like having his blind spot exposed to anyone.

“I brought you some towels,” said Zuko, knowing already that Sokka would likely blow up at him for even daring to make that assumption. “For your leg, I mean. I thought it might help. You don’t have to take them if you don’t want to.”

To his surprise, Sokka actually sat up. He allowed Zuko to help him too, not even resisting when the Fire Lord moved to place some pillows for him to rest his leg on. Sokka said nothing as Zuko rolled up his pantleg, carefully draping the warm towels across him. Since he was silent, Zuko chose to be silent too. He kept his mouth shut while he did his work, then laid down at Sokka’s side; making the choice to sit a foot away instead of getting too close and risking making things worse between them.

It was a weird, uncomfortable silence that filled the space he left. Sokka stared down at his leg as if he were looking at something disgusting or shameful, while Zuko did everything he could to keep from looking at the man beside him. Normally, he liked to turn his gaze that way for a while. To admire how gorgeous the person was sleeping at his side. But he couldn’t do that right then because Sokka was clearly pissed at him, and for good reason. He never should’ve pushed for answers.

For him, one of the hardest things in life was having to open up about his injuries. How badly the nerves still burned, how he sometimes had flashbacks when it reached its worst… Whenever his uncle would try and speak to him about it, he dodged the questions. When he first opened up to Sokka about the long-term damage to his senses, his inability to fully see or hear on the left, he felt ashamed, and nearly expected to be dumped right there and then because he wasn’t good enough for someone so amazing.

That thought was the one that flipped him to the side of understanding.

“There’s something I haven’t told you about my scar,” Zuko started quietly, still staring at the ceiling rather than his boyfriend. “You know I can’t really see or hear well on that side, but there’s something else that I— I should’ve mentioned before. I have sort of, uh, chronic pain associated with that area too. My nerves are really damaged from how severe the burn was, I guess, and it— it hurts when people touch it. It doesn’t just hurt, it, er, it _burns_. It burns _so bad_ and sometimes, when something touches it, I feel like it’s all happening again. The same thing with my stomach too but to a lesser extent. I guess my nerves are more numbed than painful down there.”

Sokka hadn’t yet turned to look at Zuko, but something in his expression changed. It softened almost, like he understood. That was a good thing. Not only was Zuko finally getting through to him, but he’d managed to uncover what Sokka was hiding for so long, or at least struck a relatable cord with him. Zuko resisted the urge to reach for Sokka’s hand, biting down on his lip and taking a deep breath before he forced himself to go on with the stories.

“I don’t have as many nightmares as I used to, but they were really bad when I was on the ship. Uncle had to come wake me up almost every night because I would scream in my sleep. For years, I thought it was pathetic. I wouldn’t tell anyone about it. I thought the nightmares somehow made me weak because I couldn’t stop thinking about things from my past, but I was wrong. My uncle talked to me and he told me that it was okay. I was abused, traumatized, I— it’s okay to feel uncomfortable. It’s okay to have bad dreams. And if you don’t want to talk about them, you don’t have to, but I’m here.”

He turned to look at Sokka, his gaze lingering for a few lengthy seconds before he took the leap and stretched out one hand. Sokka glanced down at him first, staring at Zuko’s fingers and watching as he flipped his palm over. Slowly, carefully, Sokka reached out and accepted Zuko’s hand, much to his relief. He took that as an opportunity to slide closer, using his other hand to brush back Sokka’s hair before pressing a soft kiss to his cheekbone. Being able to make contact was the first step. Getting Sokka to talk would be the second.

Unfortunately, Sokka was not quick to get on with the conversation, instead leaning his head against Zuko’s shoulder. His breaths slowed significantly as he closed his eyes, and Zuko realized he wasn’t just ignoring everything that was said, he was waiting for himself to calm down. Zuko gave him more than enough space to do that, holding him close and gently stroking the back of his head. If Sokka needed time, he could have time. Not that the willingness somehow made Zuko less impatient. He let out his own breath of relief when Sokka finally opened his mouth a minute later.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his words thick with emotion. Sokka slid his arms around Zuko’s waist, shifting to press his cheek against his boyfriend’s shoulder and allowing himself more space to speak. “I should’ve told you a long time ago, but I didn’t know how, and then too much time passed and I just felt like I was lying, and you would get mad if I—”

“I’m not going to get mad.” Zuko didn’t cut him off so much as take advantage of the silence he left by breaking off his thoughts. He swirled his thumb around in circles on Sokka’s back, holding him in close and taking a deep breath to help him relax. “I know I do that a lot and I shout at people a lot but I’m not going to shout at you. I promise. I would never shout at you.”

“I— I get this really sharp pain in my leg.” Sokka’s voice cracked slightly, though he was clearly doing everything he could to keep himself from completely losing control. “If I put too much pressure on it sometimes, or just when I move it at all on really bad days. I guess my— my bones didn’t heal right? So, I have this, like, chronic pain all the way from like my ankle to my thigh and I just feel so fucking _stupid_. And then when it hurts, the nightmares get really bad because it reminds me of everything that happened, and I know it’s dumb but it’s just… it hurts.”

“It’s okay.” He hesitated before sliding one hand down, carefully twisting one hand around Sokka’s thigh. Sokka squeezed him tighter when he did, and Zuko shifted his fingers, rubbing reassuring shapes into his hip. It seemed to help. “You don’t have to tell me about it, but I’m not going to judge you whenever you’re ready. I love you, okay? I know it’s hard, and I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“The day of the comet was just really scary.” A sob managed to crack through the last word, and Zuko instinctively moved to protect him. He gripped Sokka’s leg, pulling him up on his lap and wrapping an arm around his back. “I don’t like to talk about it but I— I thought Suki died, and Toph was about to fall and I— Suki saved her, but I broke my leg, and I couldn’t move, and I— Suki had to come down to get me and it almost killed all of us. _I_ almost killed all of us.”

“No. That’s not your fault. You broke your _leg_ , Sokka. It’s not your fault you couldn’t move.”

“But it is now. I’m— I’m supposed to use a cane but it’s so fucking embarrassing, I just— people are always mocking me and calling me an old geezer and shit and I thought you would just— I thought if I told you about it, you might—”

“Hey.” Zuko lifted a hand to Sokka’s face, slowly stroking his skin before pressing another kiss to his cheek. Sokka reached up to grip his arm, struggling to hold his gaze. “It’s okay. I don’t care if you have nightmares. I don’t care if you have to use a cane. I love _you_. Not your leg, not your perfect body, _you_.”

“Promise?”

Zuko didn’t answer with his words that time. Instead, he nudged Sokka’s face up toward his and gently pulled their lips together. There was something perfect about kissing him, about feeling Sokka’s lower back and the hands that slid up to hold his own face. He reached one arm down and carefully helped Sokka shift his leg around Zuko’s waist, his left stretching out and his right wrapping around him unassisted. Their lips didn’t part for more than a second, Zuko’s hand sliding back up to stroke Sokka’s cheek the second his legs were in place.

It was better kissing when they understood each other’s boundaries. When Sokka’s hand twisted to avoid Zuko’s scar, and Zuko’s fingers massaged Sokka’s burning thigh. Normally, their kisses tasted like sweets or spices, but that night, it was salty. Sad. Zuko moved his hand up to brush away a tear from Sokka’s cheek, only for Sokka’s hand to catch him halfway there. He parted their lips suddenly, shifting his hands to hold Zuko’s waist and his mouth to his collarbone. His fingers tugged at the hem of Zuko’s tunic, gently pulling it upward as he shifted back just far enough to slide it over his head.

Maybe the reason Sokka liked snuggling up close to him every night was because the heat helped to dull the pain. Maybe Zuko was stupid to not realize sooner. But maybe he didn’t care why Sokka wanted to cuddle beside him. Maybe, he just liked having him there, holding his waist and kissing his scars. Maybe he wanted to be the one to kiss Sokka’s scars too, whether they were the physical cuts Zuko traced along his shoulders and hips or the mental ache that came along with years of undeserved trauma.

Whatever the reason for their closeness, their snuggling, their love, Zuko never felt more comfortable than he did with Sokka lying on his chest; an arm around his stomach as he giggled and sneaked kisses on Zuko’s sternum because he knew the Fire Lord was ticklish and it made him laugh. Zuko always complained but he finished it with a kiss to Sokka’s forehead to make sure he knew it was a joke. To make sure he knew that no matter what happened, Zuko would always love and be there for him.

“You okay?” asked Zuko softly, one hand moving to continue stroking back of Sokka’s head. They were tangled with each other again, Sokka’s left leg wrapped around Zuko’s and soaking in every inch of his body heat. He nodded against Zuko’s chest, his eyes closed as he let out a breath. “I’m sorry for crossing your boundaries before.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you what they were.” Sokka snuggled into Zuko’s chest, sliding a finger down his side. Zuko draped his arm over Sokka’s bare shoulders, his fingers toying with the edge of the blanket around their waists. “What if I have another nightmare?”

“You tired?” Again, Sokka only nodded, his finger ceasing its tracing to squeeze Zuko’s hips. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just go to sleep. It’ll be all right, love. Promise.”

That must’ve been the last bit of convincing Sokka really needed. He didn’t even nod, just nuzzled into Zuko’s arms and let his eyelids stay where they laid. Zuko pressed one more kiss to the top of Sokka’s head, pulling his loose hair behind his ear and gently brushing his fingers against his warm cheek. Sokka was hurting. Zuko was hurting too. But maybe, all they really needed to heal was each other. To hold each other’s hands, to kiss each other’s lips.

“I love you.”

Zuko smiled when Sokka mumbled the words, clearly exhausted and pained, but filled with more love than Zuko ever would’ve thought could be directed toward himself. There were a lot of nights Zuko couldn’t sleep because of the way his scars would burn, but somehow, Sokka’s arm around his waist made it hurt less. A gentle, warm bandage over one of his worst traumas. Zuko slid a hand down to hold one of Sokka’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as he leaned his head against his boyfriend’s.

“I love you too, beautiful.”

No five words he’d said were ever truer than that.


End file.
